Sometimes I Feel Like I’m Failing As A Mom

Other the typical stuff like not being able to keep up with the laundry, the house and all that jazz…

I know that motherhood isn’t about winning or losing, it’s about playing the game. Assuming motherhood IS, indeed, a game. It’s not. Kids aren’t playing pieces on a game board. Although, sometimes I’d like to send them directly to jail without passing go or collecting $200.

Actually, maybe it’s me I’d like to send directly to jail. I mean, solitary confinement sounds really nice sometimes.

I can’t help it but, sometimes I think I’m failing at this motherhood gig.

I’m not sure what I expected. But, I’m sure I was not expecting some of the events that have happened along the way. I’m thinking my sister and I were much easier. Or maybe it’s that my parents were just better at dealing with kids than I am? Yeah, I don’t know either.

I didn’t realize, probably because I never truly paid attention up until I had my own children, how each kid has its own distinct personality. And how strong the stubborn gene can get as it’s passed on up the generation ladder.

Their stubborn totally bitchslaps mine into submission sometimes.

There are times when I feel like I’m an actual imposter. Like, for real. Me, a mother? Heck no, I’m one of the kids. Surely you’re mistaken. I don’t know where those children came from and they have no business referring to me as Mommy or Mom or Mother (depending on the day, the moods and what they want).

Being pulled in different directions. I don’t always know if I’m going to survive the tug of war without a major body part explosion. Inevitably, everybody needs me at the exact same time. There are moments of clarity when I can assess which one is in dire need and then I go on down the line. But, then there are more moments where I…I just don’t know.

My mom was awesome at advice. It’s like she knew exactly what to say to make it better. I’m not sure I learned her skills because oftentimes, my kids just get a sympathetic noise, a hug and a promise that things always get better. Or, maybe that’s what my mom used on me, too? I don’t remember.

Then there are times when I open my mouth, my mom comes out and everyone is pacified. Hey, those moments shock me too.

I’m going to be real honest here. Mornings suck. So does bedtime. Years ago, when they were all young, it sucked harder. Now, it’s just one I have to contend with. He’s like having five. It’s a good thing he’s cute.

I never thought I’d ever scream myself silly in the mornings. But, when you’ve hit a wall and there seems to be no reversing, screaming is sometimes the only way to break through. Show of hands…who likes starting their morning off with a cup of coffee and a screaming match? Yeah, me either.

I can’t win when it comes to food and clothing. Mostly, every choice I make sucks. The audience AND the judges..are tough, man. Socks have seams. Shirts don’t hang right. Meat isn’t soft enough. Or flavorful enough. Where’s my white flag? Or, the wine?

Maybe I’m just feeling sorry for myself because some of the choices my kids have made aren’t the ones I would have made for them.

Maybe I’m feeling sorry for them because those choices they’ve made will be something they have to live with for the rest of their lives and I don’t want them to look back and cringe. Or worse.

All I wanted out of motherhood was to raise happy, well-rounded, productive people. Hormones definitely take the happy out of them sometimes. So do genetics. And sadly, so do some choices.

I feel like I failed as a mother because I don’t know how happy all my children are. It’s hard to tell. They’re all ‘at that age’..whatever that means. It sometimes seems like every single age is ‘that age’.

I was never the kind of mother that was super strict. I grew up in a super strict house and I didn’t want that for my kids. Maybe that was the wrong choice on my part.

I didn’t want to be overbearing. Or overprotective. Or over-demanding. However, I was a bit overindulgent. Now, I’m trying to get over the fact that I should have been more overprotective and overbearing. And bossier. And more demanding.

Maybe I should have stood by the chore chart, waiting with a gold star sticker.

Maybe I should have taken things away for each bad grade.

Maybe.

Shoulda.

Coulda.

Woulda.

For my older kids, who are now basically adults (I know, I can’t believe it, either), my feeling of failed parenting is irrelevant. They are pretty much raised now. And, they didn’t turn out too badly. Except most of them don’t know how to make a bed. But, I expect they’ll have to learn when they are on their own.

For my 11 year old, I’m trying to become a little more strict, a little more overbearing, a little more overprotective. I think he needs it, he’s the youngest and when the big kids are out of the house by the time he’s in high school, it’s just him. And us. We’ll be old, he’ll need to step in and take care of his old parents. Kidding. I just think he needs to be more prepared then I’m letting him be.

Maybe I did everything for them because I wanted them to stay young. I wanted them to need us. That’s my bad. That kind of thinking backfires.

Maybe I wasn’t as strict as my parents because I didn’t want my kids to be as frustrated and angry as I was as a teenager. Silly me, it wasn’t my parents parenting, it was the fact that I was a teenager. Teens are frustrated and angry no matter what. Not always but they have their moments. And, it doesn’t matter what type of parenting you’re doing. Hormones, baby.

Listen, I think my kids are pretty freaking unbelievably awesome. But, they’re my kids so I’m not a great judge. They have talent. They have brains. They have beauty. They’ve got the whole shebang.

Do I really think I failed as a mom?

Yes.

And no.

Do I think they’d be exactly who they are, whether or not I was free-ranging or hovering?

Yes.

And no.

Do I think my kids think I have failed as a mom?

It probably depends on the day so, yes.

And no.

If your kids know how much you love them and that, no matter what, you’ll always be there for them..is that failing as a mom?

Probably not.

This feeling, this sense of failure..it could, very possibly be all me and my PMS.

Or maybe it’s because we are coming up on Mother’s Day and I’m missing my mom and her words of encouragement and wisdom.

Anyway, it’s too late to change how I parented.

I tried my best.

I loved my hardest and mostest.

And, I may feel like I failed.

But, if judging parenting was based on how amazing the kids are..

Then, maybe I’m not such a failure after all.

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